


Sheriff Stilinski's Thoughts

by WriteYourOwnEnding



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Derek Hale Character Study, M/M, Sherriff Stilinski ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25797643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteYourOwnEnding/pseuds/WriteYourOwnEnding
Summary: Working through the backlog of cases gets Sheriff Stilinski thinkingOk, the title is stupid, but it's just a stream of consciousness thing at 1 am.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Sheriff Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 5
Kudos: 85





	Sheriff Stilinski's Thoughts

Sherriff Stilinski tossed aside the case file, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. He’d known looking through a backlog of unsolved cases and crimes wouldn’t necessarily be good for his stress levels, but it seemed important. Now that he knew…what he knew, maybe more of the nonsense his town spouted out would start to line up a little better. But some things still confounded him.

He’d enlisted Derek Hale as a ‘civilian consultant’ to help put names to the monsters he might come across (along with a little muscle at Stiles’ insistence), and they had managed to solve and resolve quite a few cases. But there was still a mountain of paperwork associated with each solved case, plus re-familiarizing himself with each potential supernaturally-inclined mystery. And he hadn’t even looked at the supposedly ‘solved’ cases that were likely blamed on innocent (wild) animals or random accidents.

At least, he thought morosely, it gave Hale a purpose. Something the kid seemed to be sorely lacking for a while now.

The Sherriff knew that Stiles still looked at Derek as though he were an adult, who should instinctively have all the answers. By the stubble and leather, Hale was obviously trying to give that impression as well. But for Sherriff Stilinski, who knew first hand that most adults were faking their way through each day and praying for the best, he couldn’t look at Derek and not see a struggling, desperate and lonely 23 year-old kid who’d lost his entire support system, trying to make it with a GED he’d gotten after his sister had run terrified from their hometown, and instincts he hadn’t trusted since his high school flame raped him and murdered his entire family.

And more than that, Stilinski recognized the signs. Working out and studying supernatural lore and getting his GED in half the time it should have taken him. They were all just ways to keep from falling asleep. The gruff attitude and snarky responses and constant, low-grade growl the man could exude without a human consciously registering it. Those were just the responses of a wounded animal, desperately trying to keep anyone else from spitting on his open wound. The boy didn’t even trust in himself enough to get a real apartment. To close to a home, something he obviously didn’t think he deserved. It wasn’t until Stiles had pointed out Isaac Lahey would be taken away if he didn’t have an address and a bed, at the very least.

That wasn’t to say that Stilinski felt sorry for Derek. At all. Because if anyone deserved a little respect, it was Derek Hale. He’d had every reason in the world to become bitter, violent, feral. Everything he was supposedly inclined to anyway. Instead, he did everything he could to protect and help. He’d tried, albeit poorly, to take Scott under his wing when it was obvious the teenager had no idea what was happening to him. He’d helped Isaac get strong enough to leave his father’s house, without harming the son of a bitch who probably deserved a couple nights in that God-forsaken freezer he’d locked his son in. He’d smelled the sickness on Erica, and helped her get healthy and strong enough to actually show the person she’d always been. It might not have been the best course of action, and as the Sherriff he couldn’t condone letting teenagers make such major life choices before legally able to drink, but it had always been from a place of hope. Hope in building a new pack, hope of helping these kids the only way Derek knew how, hope of a future. Some kind of a future. When the Sherriff had lost someone, he’d drowned for nearly a year in cheap bourbon, and likely would have drowned if his son hadn’t sat up with him on two or three nights to make sure he didn’t choke. Derek didn’t do that, and he didn’t succumb to revenge like his uncle. He’d tried. For all that he’d failed, he’d never stopped trying.

So it was with respect, and not a little amount of awe, that the Sherriff welcomed Derek into the police station to help sort through the mess of files, past and present, that could be indicative of a larger pattern. And it was with amusement and a bit of resignation he welcomed his son to help out on nights and weekends (for a maximum of 12 hours total, Stiles, you still have school) with charts and graphs and a large map in the center of his room with string running in a hundred different directions.

And it was with more than a little amusement that the Sherriff let them think they were fooling him, at all, when they said Stiles got those marks on his neck from “falling”.

Honestly, did they think they’d invented necking?


End file.
